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Thursday, January 12, 2017

As I retired to bed last evening, my youngest step-son Poté's girlfriend was ordering a pizza delivery from Camy's. I commend their choice ─ they usually buy something cheap at other franchises, but Camy's makes a hearty pizza.

I was in bed by 11:12 p.m.

Unfortunately, my first break in sleep was perhaps a little after 3:00 a.m.; and after the bathroom break and water-drinking, sleep was poor thereafter.

I blame a poor supper. I relied upon a couple of huge slices I cut from a specialty loaf of white bread to provide the bulk for an otherwise light meal; and I used butter, coconut oil, tahini, and lots of peanut butter to make the dull bread palatable.

It was 7:11 a.m. when I finally checked the time this morning and decided to rise for the day, ending my night of faulty sleep. It was still very much dark, and I needed to turn on the kitchen light to make my morning's hot beverage.

I was not then entirely aware of it, but I was alone in the house. Everyone must have had to go to work this sunny, cold day.

I hoped to get out to the local Shopper's Drug Mart roughly four blocks away and stock up on nutritional supplements, but I got far too involved in working on the new post I started yesterday at one of my six hosted websites.

I did at least take a break around 10:00 a.m. to go out to the frigid backyard shed after I had donned a pair of cut-offs, and I had some exercise there.

I still might have managed to get out to the pharmacy after some rest in the noon-hour once I was done with that post, but one of my step-sons suddenly entered the house. That was sufficient to sap all resolve.

It is truly debilitatingly disappointing to me not to have the house to myself during the day.

I still do not know for certain who it is that came home ─ and it is 2:44 p.m. as I type these words.

Quite often I mention my older maternal half-sister Phyllis in this blog.

She was once Miss Richmond back in (I believe) 1963. My mother Irene Dorosh kept this old newspaper clipping that included Phyllis in the line-up of provincial beauties:

I also want to post a brief video slideshow that Google created of photos taken on October 29, 2016, when my wife Jack and her family were in Bangkok in the hopes of seeing the funeral urn of their late King Bhumibol Adulyadej at the Grand Palace ─ the video is only about 20 seconds in duration.

There were thousands of people gathered for the same purpose.

I previously published all of the photos that are in that slideshow in one post or another.

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I may complain almost daily about my sleep, but I will never take any sort of sleep medication...although I do take melatonin.

It isn't that I am unable to get to sleep ─ I tend to do that quite nicely. I just cannot remain asleep for longer than anywhere from two to four hours, usually. Then my sleep is badly broken from that point.

But much of the trouble lies in what must be an allergy to any of a number of things in this house. My nasal passageways start clogging up and drying out, and my breathing becomes most hampered.

How can any sort of medication alleviate that?

But anyone taking popular over-the-counter medications for sleep are asking for trouble. The effective ingredient in them ─ diphenhydramine ─ isn't even designed to enhance sleep. It's an antihistamine used to treat allergies.

America's FDA directs that over-the-counter medications for sleep oughtn't to be taken for more than a two-week stretch; and if insomnia persists, then the sufferer is supposed to see his or her doctor.

Yet people take these darned medications nightly with the mistaken belief that it is safe to do so.

Research has found that folks with asthma are at risk of having their condition worsened if they eat very much cured meats ─ and by "very much," I really mean what I would consider to be a rather small amount weekly.

I have to admit that pneumonia has never been a disease I have felt any concern about developing. It always seemed to be something a parent might threaten to be a consequence of not properly dressing for cold weather, or maybe going outside in cool weather with hair still damp from washing.

I guess I didn't realize that pneumonia could be caused by either a virus or a bacterium. I am in the habit of thinking of any specific disease as being caused by one type of organism.

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It was Poté who had come home during the noon-hour. I still did not know when whomever was here left just ahead of 4:30 p.m., but I had my fears that it was him going out to meet his girlfriend at a bus stop or something, and about to escort her back here.

However, he did not immediately return. I was to learn that he had merely gone for samosas to the same shopping plaza I had planned to go earlier today.

I was busy chopping up vegetables for one of my well-spiced, slow-cooked, ground beef dishes when he got back, so I declined to have any.

And now I am going to close this post with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting the small accommodation in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

MONDAY, January 12, 1975

I got up about 4:45 a.m. after dreaming vilely of orally ravishing a precocious young girl; I awoke feeling rather revolted over this dry adventure.

I had the laundromat to myself this morning, arriving less than a minute before the door oped.

Last night's snow froze, and the streets were dangerously icy as I clumsily walked.

I lied down again for c. 40 minutes afore my exercising after 4:00 p.m.; I am quite tired, and expect a tight sleep tonight.

I was pretty bored today.

I think I may have performed an effective prayer ─ at least, I sincerely hope so. Anyway, bed at 8:30 p.m.

As I was leaving the toilet for bed, I noticed a letter in my box; it was from dad requesting I visit, as Marie isn't to say anything. If I don't make it during the week, he'll watch for me about 12:30 p.m. Sunday.

The laundromat may have been up by the public library on Sixth Avenue. I always tried to get to it very early so as to avoid a crush of other users. The doors must have automatically opened at 8:00 a.m., or whenever it was that they opened.

I visited the Bluebird store quite a lot, yet today I do not remember it.

I had a massive falling out with my father Hector's live-in girlfriend Maria Fadden during the week before Christmas, and I had vowed never to return to their apartment in Burnaby.

But I loved my father and knew he loved me, and that he was really quite lonely. He wasn't all that well, either.

It will be interesting for me to read about an impending resumption of my visits.